Crazy Little Thing Called Death
by Strix Maleficia
Summary: The deal has been completed. A foe doesn't seem so deadly anymore. Sam now has his mind set on finding a way to bring Dean back. With Bobby on his side the two are going do the impossible and learn how the journey all began.
1. The Feeling

_Author's Note: If you have read most of my unfinished Supernatural Fan Fiction one would recall a certain female character of many traits… however in__** her**__ story I have decided to only have her exhibit her inherited traits from her father… Also I would like to restart the introduction of this character… Further questions or suggestions are greatly welcomed so feel free and enjoy A Crazy Little Thing Called Death… Alex…_

"I can't do it Bobby." I sat on the road sprawled out in a state of darkness. Bobby stood by me looking at the rising sun. The Impala was a few steps away from us and was the temporary tomb for the only family I had.

"Sam, ya can't just bury him knowing someone could stumble on him. It has to be done. It's the way of honoring a warrior… **and** I'm not gonna sit and watch you go through the same thing he did. This crazy game of musical chairs with your souls you damn Winchesters keep playing is a vicious cycle." I felt his stare turn on me but I couldn't bring myself to look him in the eye.

"Ruby said there was a way to save him… that **I** could save him. All I had to do was let her train me for whatever Lilith was going come at me with. She has his contract and she got away. She ran away with the knowledge she— she couldn't kill me."

"Sam, you do realize that is a good thing, don't ya? It gives us more time and Ruby is gone or most likely destroyed. You told me yourself that the girl both her and Lilith possessed was dead. Her neck had broken and probably by Lilith to prevent Ruby from helping ya. Sure she was handy when she wanted to be, but Sam what do you think would have happened if she trained ya in what she had planned. How do we know it wasn't a trick?"

"That's what he thought…"

"And why didn't you?"

"Because I thought if I took down Lilith I could have just saved him. I thought taking Ruby's knife and killing that bitch would have done it and when Ruby decided to help us… It seemed to be a solution."

"Risky solution is more like it." Bobby couched down beside me down. "So what are you going to do?"

"I'm not going to do anything. I can't burn Dean's body—not yet I can't. I just have this feeling, Bobby. Honest to God I think I have a feeling."

"What kind of feeling, Sam? The kind that's gonna bring your brother back? Sam, I love you like a son and I loved Dean—"

"Then help me Bobby! Help me find the way! Please…" Finally I looked him in the eye. Tears swelling in eyes were sadness and anger… and they burned like hell.

Bobby saw it and read my face for a long time until he stood back up and started to walk away. I felt something inside sink as the sun was reaching its morning apex.

"Well, are ya coming or what 'cause Louisiana is a couple day trip?"

I turned around to face him. "Wha-What?"

"I know a voodoo man who has a pretty good way of keeping a corpse fresh."

"Thank you, Bobby."


	2. Sickle Moon Saloon

The couple days disappeared and we found ourselves leaving the old plantation home of the voodoo man Fortoon. Fortoon was an aged Haitian living in the home of his ancestors' slave master with his daughter and wife; we saw neither of the women on our visit and I was not told the story of his acquiring the home. In fact I wasn't allowed to ask any questions.

Fortoon was more than a practitioner of voodoo but of the other mystical arts of the supernatural. He was also very keen on the subject of death. I had the greatest apprehensions leaving that house. The distress I felt for abandoning the body of my brother drove my mind wild. Especially with a man fascinated with the dark knowledge of the afterlife.

"Can we trust him?" I tried not to look over at the man but I couldn't help but glance back. His dark eyes seemed to burn into my mind all most as if he was reading my thoughts…

"Sam, I've been good friends with Fortoon for years and he pulled me out of more jams than I can count. Your father trusted him… and he was a pretty damn good judge of character."

The aged practitioner grinned at my face as the sudden idea shadowed across it. "Don't worry yourself, Samuel." His voice was thick with a Haitian accent but he spoke impeccable English. "Your brother rests in my care. I wish to honor your family by helping you in this quest. Your father saved my daughter from the cold slumber… the least I can do is save his son in return."

A slight wave of relief fell on me. I gave a weak smile and appreciative nod. He returned it and then retreated back into his home as we drove away in the Impala.

We drove farther from the swamps of Louisiana as best as one could on their way to the otherworldly city of New Orleans. Why we're heading there? Bobby had yet to tell me exactly the why, but he did tell the where we headed to; The Sickle Moon Saloon.

It rested on the outer limits of the city along the bayou. It would have reminded me of the roadhouse except for the fact of the large electric blue sickle moon floating on its more appealing entrance. The neon moon glowed as bright as moonlight upon French inspired architecture. It was three stories and the second and third floors were decorated with intricate rod iron balconies and glass French doors. Red curtains could be seen blocking most of the light coming out few of the doors.

Cars, trucks, motorcycles, and other arrays of vehicles crowded outside the ground floor. As we pulled up, the sounds of the patrons and the entertainment inside flowed through the open doors of the bar into the night air. It was somewhat muffled by the nocturnal life living in the wet wilderness surrounding the area although the noises of the saloon grew stronger as one came closer to the source.

I pulled the Impala up into a vacant spot where I could almost peer directly into the saloon. From what I saw, this was definitely no roadhouse. The inside look good from out here, but when we walked in—it was amazing.

On the gleaming red wood floors were private booths scattered across the large room. By the left wall a live band was playing to the gathering thongs of dancing patrons while by the opposite wall was the ornate bar swarmed by many social drinkers (and I'm sure quite a few hard drinkers).

Bobby lead me over to the bar after shouting something to me which I had no clue as to what over noise of the atmosphere. We pushed our way to the bar where four bartenders worked gracefully at high speed to satisfy everyone with their requested drinks.

Bobby elbowed me and nodded over to one of the bartenders. The guy was probably as tall as me or at least close to it. His long dark hair was pulled back going along with the rest of his rocker look and his good looks and physique were able to the draw most if not all of the female attention in the room. But there was something more to this guy other than his Don Juan charm. His eyes shone silver every time the flashing lights overhead struck them. Bobby also noticed this too, and he looked almost confused by it.

Bobby gestured to me to lean down for him: "That guy—Fortoon said he would take us to **our** guy." From the focus on "our" I understood he was referring to the one who could give us what we needed to know. The feeling of getting close to getting Dean back urged me on to call the rocker bar hand over.

"What can I get ya, guys?" His voice shouting over roar of the saloon activity seemed almost at normal volume, most likely from practice. Getting a better look at him, his eyes seemed almost old and weary on his young face, yet there a certain glint to them. I could also detect an Irish accent in his voice.

Bobby answered him: "We're looking for someone?"

A veil of amusement fell over his face as he looked at both of us. "Sorry, gents, but we're not that kind of saloon." He laughed and asked us if we would want a drink instead.

"No, aha, that's not exactly what I meant. Can you tell us where we might find a guy by the name of Davies?" Then a slightly different emotion appeared and he gave a cautious chuckle.

"Second floor—Pool is played… That's where Davies usually is. Tall, blonde hustler with a cocky attitude can't miss h—" But his voice wasn't so booming over the applause and cheers for the band.

"Thanks," I finally spoke in. when it quieted as quiet as it could get.

"Don't mention it." He pointed over to the left to reach the second floor. We trudged over to a spiral stair well that could be seen in the left corner of the bar and as I followed up after Bobby, I noticed the bartender was still watching us.

The second floor had the same setup as the first except there were several pool tables where the band would have been if compared to the first floor. Clouds of smoke swirled over the tables and their players floating among the hanging green domed lights. The bar was not as active was it was downstairs nor as noisy. A juke box played some of its selections for the players down at the other half of the room where its music was probably garbled by the commotion going on at one of the tables.

We ventured closer where we could see a tall, blonde cocky hustler jeer at the others as he lined up his shot. The spectators grew silent as the remaining pool balls clicked against one another. Not one ball went into the pockets except the striped "13" ball leaned over the edge of far right hand pocket. A hiss of anguish sounded from the hustler who recoiled. His buddies patted him on the back and some reassured him.

Suddenly from out of the dark corner came a mocking voice: "Damn that has got to be a bitch… but hey, thanks for lining up good' old lucky '13' for me." Out of the shadows came another tall, blonde cocky hustler only difference was a young woman stepped forward with a pool stick in hand.

She was the only woman in a sea of men and probably could be the most attractive woman like the most attractive man downstairs. There too was something different about her. Her face was almost not human from the expressions she made. Her blue-green eyes held a bit mischief in them and they too had a funny way of glowing silver in the fluorescent light.

Her bow lips curled into a grin as she prepared to take her shot. Thick, gold curls fell down around her face and rested on her bare shoulders and forearms. Her bare skin attracted more attention than her sinking the "13". Finally reactions of groans were mixed with cheers when the men realized the "13" was gone followed by the "15". Only one striped was left among two solids.

I knew I was staring a little too much at her, but so were the rest of males in the room even Bobby, who focused more intently then the rest of us. Yet his stare wasn't of lust, but wonder.

Just then she laughed and rested on the edge of the table before taking her shot. Her eyes suddenly glanced up at me and she smiled at my startled reaction. Funnier than my reaction though to her was that she took the shot without looking and sinking it shocking the rest of the room. The moans at the win from the other player escaped him and his friends as they watched their friend flip some large bills on to the table with frustration.

Those for the woman congratulated her with their words rather than actions; for those who dared to shake her shoulder were shot a deadly look. It was obvious she did not like to be touched by anyone or by just men, I wasn't sure. As the crowd broke and men either went to play their own games or enjoy themselves at the bar, I went forward towards the other player among his friends who spoke in a hushed whisper. They had retreated away from the tables to their booth drinking beers that were being placed on their table by a nervous-looking barmaid. Her nervousness could be explained by the way the men treated anything in a skirt. A wolf-whistle and a few groping hands made her work quick and walk hastily back behind the bar.

I stopped abruptly and turned to Bobby. "Do you think that's the guy?"

Bobby sighed with annoyance toward the group at their treatment of the barmaid, shook his head, and said," God, I hope not."

I went over and was eyed right away. Some whispered among themselves and snickered when blonde leader realized company he shushed them and turned to face me.

"Got a problem fella?" He spat glaring.

"Well, I do except I need to know first if your name is Davies." I retorted.

Then his buddies howled with laughter as he chuckled lightly and said, "Never heard that one before, ha."

He rubbed his nose and looked me in the eye. "Sorry, but no, Davies is that little **bitch **over there that just robbed me of 500 bucks."

"Oh, my mistake…" I ended it started walking over to Bobby when—

"Hey, forgetting something?" His snide voice stopped me in my tracks.

"I thought you had a problem you want to discuss with me."

Bobby stared me in the eyes and mouthed the word "don't" knowing pretty well what I would say. The anger I've been feeling for a while however was all for it.

"Yeah, I didn't really enjoy watching you assholes harass that girl." I stood back around to do some glaring of my own.

The leader and biggest asshole of them stood up and to his shock wasn't as tall as he thought he was, but his mouth wasn't shocked enough. "Is that so? So what are you gonna do about it? Are ya gonna punish us?"

His face was inches from mine and my hands clenched tight. A mechanical flick was heard and a sharp point rested on my stomach. He thought he had me cowering. Actually my anger did.

I grab the wrist attached to the hand holding the switchblade. I twisted it until he yelled in pain and dropped it. I swung my fist into his face and he fell back unto the table with a crash. His buddies sprang up ready to fight when they saw Bobby at my side ready too. Their pal pulled himself up, but was off his feet again. The real Davies gotten between us and them pushed him back on the table. She choked him by the collar of his shirt.

"Goddamn it, I've told you time and time again Kyle—I'm sick of the shit you pricks start. Last time I checked you were all told about harassing the girls and the customers for that matter. Now unless you want an ass-whipping from me or these two guys, I **really** suggest you drink your beers and get the hell out of my saloon."

He still panted from blows he received but was able to shake his head in agreement. She released him and he moved away to his group. He fixed his shirt and ran a hand through his hair.

"We were leaving any way. C'mon boys." He beckoned his dogs and they left down the stairwell.

"You're just gonna trust them going out by themselves," Bobby asked her.

"Not to worry, my boys will take care of them if they try anything," she reassured him. She turned to face us with a blight smile. "I couldn't help but over hear that you two are looking for me."

"Yeah, you heard right." I smiled myself at her ability to be friendly after berating unruly customers.

"Well, the name isn't just Davies. It's Faye Davies and it's very nice to meet a Winchester."


	3. We've Got A Long Way To Go

"I knew I would be excepting you two soon when Fortoon called." She reached out and shook my hand," Pleasure to meet you, Sam."

"Fortoon said you would be able to help us with something. He put it as though you had some experience with what we need to talk about." Bobby said as he shook hands with her also.

"What exactly did he tell you, Bobby?" She crossed her arms and looked at both of us with extreme curiosity.

"Well, it is certainly something that needs to be said in private."

"Isn't everything?"

We again traveled up the spiral stairs to the third floor, which really turned out to be a small apartment. She stopped at a locked door and using a key she kept on silver chain around her neck opened the door. She led us into a room clearly belonging to a hunter.

"So you own this place **and** live here?" I questioned walking around the room in amazement. I observed the many items of warding off evil; more the weapons than the books, scrolls, and bits of paper lying around or on the shelves. The weapons hung on the walls in cases or rested in cabinets out in the open and visible to the eye.

Bobby was doing the same and was on the other side of the room where a small kitchenette was with its unusual jars and bottles of not ordinary culinary herbs and ingredients.

"It's one of many places I call home let's say, but then again I have been here for a year." She mused as she reclined back on a chaise among other pieces of furnishings in the center of the room.

"You must travel a lot if it takes a year for a place to be considered home—" My eyes now fell on a large leather bound book in case all its own resting in red velvet.

"The Lesser Key of Solomon…"

"What?" I turned to her to find her curled up like a cat watching my every move. She had with a smile of amusement on her face as she explained.

"The Lesser Key of Solomon," she said, "A very popular book among those interested in demonology. It was supposedly written by King Solomon but some experts believe that to be incorrect." She had gotten up and stood by my side gazing into the glass case.

"And this one," she was now referring to the an adjacent case with its book," is the Key of Solomon and it more or less goes hand in hand with the other one."

"Sure, if one wants to control a demon, they should…"

Bobby by this time was over with us. He seemed to watch me with concern. Faye also took notice of this.

"So what is it that you two need so desperately from me?" She had moved back to the chaise and invited us to two opposite arm chairs.

"Fortoon told us you know how to return souls to the dead." Booby was straight to the point and a bit of anger was directed at Faye. Was Bobby upset she told me about those books?

Faye seemed to become rigid and her face became grave. "**Did he now? Did he also tell you how dangerous it is to do so**?" Her voice was deep and irked.

"That's the thing with Fortoon. He always has it in his mind that others need to learn these things themselves."

"He's quirky and horribly annoying like that." Faye agreed firmly.

"I know who your brother is, Faye. I remember the rumor that went around." Bobby stated this looking her dead in the eye.

"Everyone in our business long enough knows who my brother is," she muttered," David Davies, dhampir, vampire hunter, demon slayer… the list is endless."

"You were once a pair weren't ya? Barely in of your teenage years when you two really became the job and how old are ya now?" Bobby was trying something. He was trying to bring the noble hunter out of her; the hunter who would help us—who would help Dean.

"I'm twenty. God, it's hard to believe how fast time goes by. I know what you're doing, making me feel whatever emotion you think will bring the real me back. You don't need to. She's here under the sadness and madness."

She broke her stare down with Bobby and looked over at me with a weak grin. "I know why **you're** here. You want to bring **him** back. The same way I wanted to bring my brother back, but do you see him anywhere? Hmm? My brother never wants to see me, because of what I did."

"Wha—"

She stopped me by taking my hands in hers. Faye's eyes were moist with held-back tears. "Will Dean be as forgiving as my brother? Or do you think it wasn't his time?"

"I don't think it was his time…"

"Alright. We've got a long way to go."


	4. Butchered

"…wake up…"

_I heard his voice._

"…Dean, c'mon…"

_It was his voice, Sam's. It was faint, but it was there._

"DUDE!"

I was shoved roughly off my bed and tackled on to the floor of whatever slimy motel we were staying in. The ten year old beating my face in with a pillow was my brother. _My brother…_

"Jesus Christ, man! Get off me! I'm awake!"

"No, you're not! When I leave the room you'll be in another dead sleep—_dead_—

Get up now!" He insisted still beating away with the pillow.

"How the hell—_Hell_—can I, when you're attacking me?" I grabbed the pillow out of his hand whacked him off and laughing at he how flew across the floor.

"Hey, that hurt!" Sammy whined rubbing the side of his face.

"_'That Hurt'_", I mocked, "You little shrimp of course it hurt. How did you think I was feeling getting pummeled?"

"Whatever, jerk, anyway…," he was such a kid how he forgave so easily," I wanted you to see that it snowed **and** that you remembered the promise you made me."

"What to toss you out there in your underwear and lock you out?"

"No!—that you would take me sledding…" He looked at me with a smile and that's when I realized he was geared up in boots, jacket, hat, scarf, and gloves.

"Okay, now hold on to the rope," I told him and added after really seeing how steep the hill was," Otherwise you'll take another lesson in flying, alright?"

"Got it." He said obediently as he readied himself for the push.

"Okay," I placed my hands on his back," You ready?"

"**Wait**! **What**! Aren't you coming with me?!" Sam spun around to look at me with fear in his eyes.

"Since when did I say I was going down with you?"

"Well, you're my big br—**you're not gonna want to wait for me to come back up**!" He sped through his word as I slowly pushed him forward.

"**HEEEEEEEEeeeeeeeeEEEEEEeeeyyyYYYYYyyyyyy**!!" So much for a flat steep hill, Sam's voice went up and down just as he was on the sled on several hills.

Suddenly my eyes spotted farther down the large hill was an edge covered by a thicket of white branches. "**SAM**!! **WATCH OUT**!! **TURN**!!"

My eyes widened as I watched him fail to stop. He crashed through the thicket and fall straight over the edge. Both my mind and feet raced and boy did I race too fast the down the hill, 'cause I was snowballing down the hill head first.

When my sore body reached the bottom, I could tell my right arm was broken. My brain and other insides may have been rattled but I was still able to function. "SAM!! SAMMY!!"

I began to crawl for I was close to the thicket and made my way through. I looked down a nine foot drop into a frozen creek. There Sam was treading deep water in opening of the broken ice. He was unconscious. Only thing keeping him up was that damn sled I swiped from some yard on the way to this goddamn hill.

"**C'mon, wake up**! **Sam, open your eyes**!" I shouted turning myself around to climb down.

My feet would lose their grip and slip. My left arm would grow numb from catching myself and pulling my body back up. Luckily there was a bit of bank for me to stand on. I grabbed a forked branch and began to fish for the reins of the sled. I felt a tug and lifted the branch out of the water to see the reins hanging off it. I slowly pulled him in to avoid him slipping off.

"_Dean_…" My heart jumped at his meek voice.

"Hold on, Sam. Don't move, I'm pulling you in." I spoke to keep him calm and not panicked. A current was against me and the last I wanted was for him to freak and be pulled under.

He got closer and closer until finally I was able to reach out for him with my good arm. Taking hold of his jacket, I felt my feet suddenly give out under me.

It felt like hundreds of needle pierced my skin. My body started to become numb from the icy cold. The current pulled me—and Sammy who I still held on to. I could hear muffled shouts in the water and pounding my foot against the ice speeding by hoping for thin ice.

When things started to get dark, a crash through ice revealed a saving hand. I stretched my bad arm to reach despite the pain. I looked into my father's face as he pulled us out. Grabbed both of us and held us tight to him. But strange enough he released and looked over at Sam.

"Sam—"He shook him," **Sam**!"

Dad placed him down and bent down to hear his heart. He felt for a pulse—nothing. His face was dark. He turned to me. "_What have you done_…"

"Dad, he's not—Sammy can't be—"I stumbled with my words fearing the truth before me.

"**What have you done, Dean**!!" His yell alone would have knocked a blow to me, but his hand did it for him.

I fell on to my broken arm and shouted out from the pain. "**Dad**! **I'm sorry**!!"

"**YOU WORTHLESS LITTLE SHIT!! WHAT HAVE YOU DONE!!**?" He continued to scream as he picked me up by the collar.

Fear fell over me as my father's eyes became an acidic and all too familiar **yellow**. "**NO**!!" I yelled

"**WANNA MAKE ANOTHER DEAL YOU DUMB LITTLE PRICK!!**"

Fifteen years flew by; the scene I that suffered disappeared into a much worse one. The pain throughout my body from the meat hooks stretching me out before the burning hellfire was more unbearable. I couldn't tell how long I had been floating going through numerous nightmares. I just knew it felt like eternity. My chains shattered out as far as I could see in this horrible place with no end. **I was still in Hell**.


	5. Brotherly Love

"What exactly are we gonna be expecting

"What exactly are we gonna be expecting?" Bobby broke the thoughtful moment with his suspicions which I should have had myself. There had to be more behind the reason of her brother's resentment towards her. What was I prepared to do to bring Dean back—like she had been prepared to do…?

"Well that would ruin the surprise," Faye's tenderness dramatically changed.

"What can I ask—"

"Bobby, I can't say exactly what is going to happen. All I can say is this type of task is different for anyone taking it." Faye's eyes would have seemed fierce if she didn't look so—inhuman.

"What do you mean?" I studied her face as it suddenly brightened in humor.

"What do **you** think I mean?"

"I can't say just yet… The only way for me make any assumptions is if I had an easier person to read." She smiled at this.

"I feel bad for being so difficult…"

"Fortoon didn't help you like us and he must have sent you to someone like us," Bobby tugged a nerve," So you really need to be empathic, stop feeling sorry, and just stop—and explain."

"Bobby's right," I said," We're not here to play games—**I'm** not here to play games. I want to get my brother back."

"Look, you're talking about bringing someone back from **Hell**… not the dead. Do you even understand how more damaged or possibly more deranged your brother might be? A single day of torment in the Pit is probably like an eternity of unbearable suffering and pain that could drive anyone mad."

"If you're asking me if I really want to do this," I felt my anger emerging, "I didn't come here to be sent away with **nothing**! **He is my brother**!"

"Just as David was mine," Faye retorted, "David came back a different person. He hates it. Living a new life with the knowledge of something is different inside you makes that supposed new life Hell on earth…"

"I know that feeling." I knew it well…

"What's it gonna be, Davies? The man's made up his mind and both of us have seen plenty. I think we can handle whatever oncoming disaster you might lead us into." Bobby watched her expressionless face as she sat there listening to him.

She got up from the chaise and walked over to the two cases containing the Lesser Key of Solomon and the Key of Solomon. She spoke over her shoulder:

"Even though the deal is complete and the soul is retrieved… the demon still has the contract in their possession—"

"What?! You're insane if you think you're gonna summon Lilith!" Bobby stood enraged at what she was saying.

"It is only one part of what we have to do and it is a **major** part!" She kept her back to him, but the energy she sent was sensed fully as though she was staring him down and explaining this.

"Will we be able to control her?" I asked solemnly…

"Sam, don't be dumb! She may have failed to kill you, but who's to say she won't try a second time and succeed!" Bobby turned to me with a look of lost and fear of my reckless determination.

"Yes, we could and she would have no choice but to do as we say or ask of her." Faye spoke in a matter-of-fact tone.

Bobby's face was still stone. He looked between us until he spoke surrendering, "What are you gonna need?"

"For you to trust me…"

Faye stood alert, but had an air of nonchalance about her in the clearing. They had performed the ritual somewhere deep in the bayou. Bobby and I waited inside a dingy boat house watching her be bait.

"_The damn summoning was half an hour ago_," Bobby whispered with apprehension as he peered out the grimy window; our only way of seeing what was happening.

For me the window was the only way of seeing that evil bitch—In my hands was Ruby's blade.

"_Sam_!" Bobby drew me back from my vengeful imagination.

I looked out through the glass and Faye was no longer alone. A little girl walked towards her.

The child looked ghostly the way her white dress glowed in the black of the night. Even her silvery, long hair created an eerie shimmer.

I quickly made my way to the door and half way out of opening it; Bobby yanked me back.

"_Not yet. The first sign of trouble we'll bust out now wait_."

"_What for Lilith to kill her? Bobby, she is not going to be led to_-"

Then a high-pitched shriek echoed out into the night air. It launched us out and there was Lilith trapped and an apparently unharmed Faye.

Lilith screamed and clawed at the invisible force holding her. Her feet stamped on a pitched down tarp behind her. In truth she took her rage out on the painted confinement circle hidden underneath the side of it.

As we ran down, Faye was flat on her back and reclining on her elbows.

"Dumb bitch," I heard her murmur as I helped her up.

Bringing her the Lesser Key of Solomon, she opened to the ritual began reciting the words.

"Hi, Sam…"

It would have been the sweet voice of a child were it not for the sinister nature inside the little girl tainting it.

"It's good to see you…"

I eyed the smirk on the angelic face with distaste. "Hey, Lilith, how's that circle feeling?" My voice was filled with malice.

"No need to be mean, Sammy." She waved a finger at me, "You should be a little nicer to me, because when I get out of here, I'll promise to kill you painlessly—unlike your friend." Her eyes locked with Faye who merely smirked and continued on to the end of the incantation.

"Yeah, you tried to kill me once before and look how that turn out," I remarked snidely.

"Alright, Lilith—let's see what can do for us," Faye said grinning…


End file.
